Out Of Context
by fictionalwhims
Summary: Season 1 AU! Jess moves in with her good friend Schmidt after Spencer cheats on her. After a disastrous date she meets Nick Miller and the chemistry is instant. There's only one problem: he's just moved to LA all the way from Chicago to be with his girlfriend. Slowly they create an unlikely group of friends and learn some hard truths about love. RATING WILL CHANGE.
1. Chapter 1

**Quick Story Notes:** This is an AU of the first time the gang all meets. In this universe, Jess moves in with her good friend Schmidt after Spencer cheats on her. Nick and Winston have just moved to LA from Chicago. Nick is a new bartender at _Clyde's_ and he moved in order to be with Caroline. Winston joins him because his basketball career in Latvia has been cut short. More details will be in the story, I just thought a little background might help.

If this story looks familiar, it was up here once before but I took it down because I got the idea for "Twenty-Two" and it took over. I'm giving this one another shot though!

 **Pairings:** Ness & Schmece

 **Set:** Around the same time as season 1.

* * *

 **Out of Context  
** **Chapter One.**

This can't be happening.

Well, that is actually incorrect. It _can_ be happening. It _is_ happening. But she is really starting to wish that it _isn't_ happening. This is terrible. This is _Jessica Day and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Date._

She's been single for three months. Three long, weird, Spencer-less months spent living with her long-time friend Schmidt, trying not to be disturbed by the surprising amount of strange that wanders out of his room on the weekends. At first, crashing with Schmidt had been pretty bearable (and even amusing). But she probably should have known better. Around six weeks after her breakup, Schmidt had started referring to Jessica's lady parts as Death Valley, and though she doesn't like to admit it, the nickname is starting to have an effect on her self-confidence. To help her get out of her rut, Schmidt created an online dating profile for her and she had finally picked a guy to go on a date with. Which is why she's here, at a bar called _Clyde's_ , drinking wine and pretending not to notice that the guy she's with is a total douchebag.

She's going to kill Schmidt as soon as she can escape.

It takes her forty-five minutes to convince her date (she's mentally referring to him as _Douche McToolbag_ ) that she isn't interested in hooking up. He doesn't seem to understand the concept, not even when he's walking out of the door alone.

Man, she needs a drink. Being single is _terrible._

Trying to ignore the fact that her love life is a complete mess, she trudges over to the bar and slumps down on it, covering her face with her hands. She doesn't uncover her eyes when she hears the bartender stop in front of her—it's probably Big Bob, and she's afraid she'll see pity if she looks up at him. Lately she's been here way too often.

"Two fingers of something Irish please." Without looking, she puts her hand up to silence an older, redheaded regular who has eagerly leaned forward. "That's not a literal request, Patrick."

The glass clunks down on the bar top in front of her and a healthy dose of whiskey is deposited in it. Jess' sigh is deeply satisfied and she glances up to thank Bob—

—And meets the gaze of a new bartender. A new, sexy-in-a-scruffy-way bartender with warm brown eyes. Eyes that are currently crinkled up at the corners because he's smirking at her. She gapes at him for a second, caught off guard by a new face. Where had he come from? Nothing ever changes at _Clyde's_. It's like the bar in _Cheers_ and she is a sucker for nostalgia and 80s sitcoms.

"That didn't look like it went too well," he says, jerking his head toward the door she'd practically forced McToolbag out of a moment ago. The words aren't without sympathy, although he is obviously trying to make a joke of it.

"Uh…noooo. No, it really, _really_ didn't." She picks up the glass of whiskey and takes a sip, wincing as it burns its way down her throat. She isn't normally a whiskey drinker, but it has been an extremely frustrating three months. She looks shyly up at the bartender through her bangs and finds him studying her in return. He doesn't seem to be too concerned that she's caught him staring. Instead his lips turn up at the corners and he slowly casts his eyes away.

"Sorry to hear that," he says. "I hope the whiskey helps."

He goes back to wiping out empty glasses, not shutting her out but giving her a little space in case she wants to drown her sorrows in silence. God, if only her date had been as nice as him...

She takes another long, burning sip of whiskey, wishing it's an acquired taste that she'd a _ctually_ acquired before now. Maybe she'll switch to a daiquiri next. Before she can decide, a well-manicured blur comes rushing toward her from the door.

"Jess! I got your text. I came right away. Where is this guy? Huh? Where'd this punk go?"

Schmidt nearly crashes into the bar because he ran up to her so fast. He is as fashionable as ever, but in that overly polished way that she finds slightly annoying. He is breathing hard, as if he'd run all the way from their apartment. His eyes are moving around the bar, looking for McToolbag. She pats his arm, hoping to soothe his apparent rage on her behalf.

"Thank you, Schmidt. He's gone now but thank you for defending my honor," she tells him, fighting a smile. "Everything's okay now."

"Oh. Okay good, because I was going to take him to pound-town, Jess. Right to pound-town. Blammo, done!"

Schmidt doesn't seem to realize he's yelling. And if he notices the stares from the other bar patrons, they don't seem to bother him. A few paces to her right, Jess can see the bartender trying not to laugh. He glances over, shaking his head, and then looks away again when he catches her eye.

"Listen, Jessica – that guy was not good enough for you. You can do better." Schmidt sounds extremely earnest—too earnest, really.

"Thank you for saying the exact words that you're obligated to say as one of my close friends," she replies, more amused than annoyed. He isn't really listening anyway. He's fully engulfed in his role of dashing protector and is already plowing ahead with the conversation as if she hadn't spoken.

"Perhaps you should consider lesbianism."

Her glass plunks down hard on the bar top as she turns to him, her mouth hanging open in outrage, but before she can tell him how incredibly offensive it is to belittle people's romantic and sexual choices that way, he shushes her.

"Hear me out, hear me out! It's because girls are so much more into, you know, _personality_. You have _lots_ of personality, Jess! And…also breasts."

"Are you _serious,_ Schmidt?! What the hell?" She smacks his arm, and he jerks out of her reach, rubbing his bicep where she'd slapped him.

"I'm just trying help you, Jess! I care about you! And honestly this is an absurdly long dry spell. It's starting to get really weird."

Jess throws the last of her whiskey back. _Unbelievable._ "It is truly and disturbingly amazing how you can insult entire demographics of people as well as me personally without a single shred of shame."

Schmidt's smile is wide, full of delight at his own mischief. He is pretending not to understand what she's talking about. He opens his mouth to continue giving her terrible life advice, but she's saved by his ringing phone. She watches him dart away to a quieter corner of the bar and shakes her head. He really is too much.

She peeks over to see the bartender staring after Schmidt as well, and she pulls a face.

"If I told you I was friends with him out of pity, would that make any sense to you?"

He laughs. It's a nice laugh.

"I think that's the only way it makes sense to me," he assures her, and she giggles with him for a moment.

"Thank you! I feel like I have to explain it a lot."

For a moment, both of them watch Schmidt gesture wildly as he shouts into his phone on the other side of the room. With another chuckle, the new guy then grabs the whiskey bottle and pours her another drink.

"I think you could probably use this. On the house," he says when she starts to decline.

"Thank you!" She takes the glass and lifts in in a salute to him, and he gives her a nod. She notices that while he continues working—cleaning glasses and wiping down bottles—he doesn't move too far away from her. She tells herself that she's _already_ reading too much into his body language. She doesn't even know his name yet, and already she's over-analyzing his proximity to her.

Seriously, it's time to get a grip.

"Can I ask you something?" she says suddenly, straightening her posture as he looks back over to her. Her tone is so serious that for a moment he looks concerned, but he walks toward her immediately.

"Shoot. I'm an open book."

"Can we be friends?" At his look of surprise, Jess rushes to explain. "I just think it would be useful to have a friend that can professionally provide me with alcohol—please don't read into that—and who won't try to persuade me to change my sexuality." _Or refer to my vagina as Death Valley._ She manages not to say the last part.

He laughs again. "The alcohol I can help you with." Then he pauses and looks thoughtful. "Actually, I might be able to help you with the sexuality thing too. I've been told I have that effect on women."

"What, the effect of turning them into lesbians?" She's cracks up as he gives a sheepish little shrug.

"Let's just say college was rough."

She sticks her hand across the bar. "I'm Jess."

He gives her hand a firm shake. "I'm Nick," he replies.

"Thanks for cheering me up."

"What're friends for?"

Ten minutes later she has more of his backstory: he's just moved here from Chicago, which explains the accent, and Big Bob has hired him on full-time. She's just explaining to him about being a teacher when a woman walks up, leans over the bar and kisses Nick quickly on the lips.

"Hey, handsome!" she says. She's a pretty blonde woman, probably a year or two older than Jess, and wearing a blouse that Jess immediately approves of due to its tiny daisy print.

"Hey!" Nick's smile is wide. "I'm almost done. Want a drink while I finish up?"

She turns him down and glances curiously at Jess. Nick gestures between them.

"Meet my new friend Jess. Jess, this is my girlfriend Caroline."

"Nice to meet you Caroline." Jess takes her hand, giving it a warm shake and hoping she hasn't made the wrong first impression. Nick's cute and surprisingly easy to talk to, but she's not interested in usurping anyone's position. Home-wrecking is not her style, especially not after Spencer's transgressions.

"I had a terrible date and Nick was very generous with the whiskey. Now I better go take care of my friend before he judges someone's private sexual decisions even though his own sexuality is questioned _so_ _often_ …you didn't need to know all that. Anyway, thanks again and it was great to meet you both!"

It isn't her most graceful exit, but it could have been much worse. At least she doesn't awkwardly tap dance across the room, which is usually her first instinct.

"Schmidt! Leave that nice man alone! He does not need your help choosing shoes to match his belt!"

Schmidt immediately protests that this is _exactly_ what that poor stranger needs, and Jess hauls him out of the bar before he can humiliate her further.

* * *

The loft that Jess shares with Schmidt is beautiful. It's big and roomy and she has to admit that Schmidt has impeccable taste. She can't really afford it, but they've been friends for so long that Schmidt gives her a break on the rent as long as she supplies delicious baked goods for his office. He calls them his literal brownie points and she rolls her eyes every time, but she enjoys the baking so she doesn't protest too often. Honestly she hadn't expected to live with him this long, but her very best friend Cece already has roommates (models, yuck), and she doesn't really have anywhere else to go that isn't back to her mother's house in Oregon. As much as she loves her mother, she is keeping that as a last option.

She leaves Schmidt in the living room once he's changed into a short, silk kimono. There are some things no one should see, and the pale expanse of his upper thighs is firmly in that category. Anyway, she wants some privacy when she calls Cece, and if Schmidt knows that's who she's calling, he'll pester her to death. Cece has been his "Everest," whatever that means, for years.

She locks herself in her room and pulls on her pajamas before sliding into bed and calling her best friend. She hugs a pillow close while she waits for Cece to answer.

"I was just about to call you," Cece says when she picks up. "How was your date?"

"Terrible." Jess' voice is far too cheerful. "I mean it was really bad. He told me that his last conquest called his penis 'King Kong' and he thought I was there for a hookup."

"King Kong? Seriously?"

"Schmidt picked him."

"You've got to listen to me. Please, please, please _stop_ listening to Schmidt when it comes to dating."

"You're right. You're one hundred percent right, I never should have gone out with this guy in a million years."

"You don't sound too upset. Did something else happen?"

Cece knows her too well. Jess deflects, trying to decide how to explain meeting Nick. On its own it was a completely unremarkable event, but she keeps thinking about his laugh.

"Did you know there's a new bartender at _Clyde's_?" she asks instead.

"Did you seriously have a first date at that dive bar? Jess, c'mon…"

"I thought you liked _Clyde's_!"

"No, you like _Clyde's_. I go there with you because the drinks are cheap."

"Cece, you never pay for drinks. I mean it, I've never seen you pay for a single drink. Guys _always_ buy your drinks."

"Okay, well…they would be cheap if I had to pay for them. Tell me about the bartender."

This is it. The moment of truth. She needs to decide how to explain the instant connection she'd felt with Nick…and then how to explain the fact that he has a girlfriend. She's going to have to word it carefully because Cece is very perceptive. The years they've spent together means she can read Jess like an open book.

"His name is Nick. He gave me a free whiskey. He's from Chicago." She falls silent for a moment.

"And?" Cece coaxes, her tone playful.

"That's it."

"He's cute, right? That's why you brought him up."

"Okay, yes. He's cute. He's cute and he's funny. And for a second I thought we had this crazy connection."

"Just for a second?"

"He has a girlfriend."

Cece lets out a sympathetic sigh. "You do have a thing for unobtainable guys."

"I know." Jess buries her face in her pillow. "What is w _rong_ with me, Cece?"

"Jess, nothing is 'wrong with you.' Lots of girls get crushes on unavailable guys. Do you want me to come over tomorrow and help you look at your online dating matches?"

"Yes please!" Jess can hear Cece smiling at her eager reply.

"Okay. Get some sleep, Jess. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. Wear sweats. Schmidt has the day off."

" _Perfect._ " Cece's sarcasm is heavy, but Jess has a feeling that in this case, the lady doth protest too much. She wisely keeps this observation to herself. That's a conversation for another night.

"Goodnight, Jess."

"Goodnight, Cece."

* * *

 **A/N:** "Twenty-Two" isn't quite done but it is wrapping up, and I'm still not 100% sure exactly what direction this fic is heading in (I mean, other than a Ness direction)...but I really enjoyed writing this and I'm eager to see where it goes. Hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I'm very very sorry that chapter two took so long. That will probably be the last time it takes so long for an update. I had a terrible bout of writer's block and to be honest I wasn't 100% sure where I was headed with this story, but I've got both of those issues worked out now. I really hope that you like chapter 2 and I SWEAR it won't take that long for the rest of the story to get posted!

* * *

 **Chapter 2.  
**

It's not easy for Jess to pretend that Schmidt isn't waiting, perfectly posed, on the edge of her armchair. He's spent the entire morning preparing for Cece's imminent arrival, and she's pretty sure he's settled on the seventh of fifteen outfit choices…although it could also be the sixteenth if he's changed his socks. He's dashed on some cologne and he keeps rubbing his teeth clean though he hasn't had even a sip of water since he brushed them the third time this morning.

"You're pathetic," she tells him. He cheerfully ignores her.

"Did she like the profile I set up for you on Match? I really put my heart in that one. I think it shines through in the carefully selected adjectives."

"Seriously, you're pathetic." Jess points at his room. "I'm banishing you from the living room, Schmidt. You are not allowed to creep on Cece at any point while she's here helping me this afternoon. That includes casual stop-offs on the way to the bathroom."

"You can't banish me to my bedroom in my own apartment?"

"Can't I?" Jess tilts her head and gives him her best crazy eyes. He falters for a second and then shakes his head.

"No."

She knows she can win this one as long as she stays firm. She steps into his personal bubble and intensifies her stare. "Can't I?"

"No!" But he's already headed toward his bedroom. "Your bug-eyes are scaring me."

She sticks her tongue out at him before he closes his bedroom door, and finally she can relax. Schmidt has had a crush on Cece for years, but he's never had the confidence to ask her out. His attempts to impress her or interest her have ranged from sweet to downright crazy, but every time Jess tells him to just ask her to dinner, he chickens out.

It's kind of sweet: he thinks she's too good for him. But more often than that it's awkward and a little bit creepy.

Cece shows up ten minutes later, looking radiant in an orange-to-yellow ombre dress. She gives Jess a big hug and then glances around the living room.

"Schmidt's banished to his bedroom," Jess informs her as she motions for Cece to relax on the couch. She's already got her laptop set up and her browser is open to the first dating site. There's also a small tray of muffins and fruit because Jess feels as though being a good hostess is her calling in life.

"You're like a prison warden," Cece tells her with a laugh as she picks up a muffin and settles into a comfortable spot on the couch.

"Teach middle school long enough and you learn a few things." Jess gestures to the computer. "There's a couple of guys on here that seem promising. Except for _VagDestroyer2014_ , which is apparently the year he graduated. He sent me a picture of his penis and a very graphic description of exactly how he plans on destroying my vagina."

"Wow." Cece scrunches up her nose as she processes that information. "Did it sound like a fun plan?"

"I think at some point he compared the aftermath to nuclear fallout, but there were numbers in his words so I couldn't be sure."

"I think it's safe to pass on him. Show me who else is interested." Cece leans forward to skim the messages and pictures that Jess pulls up. She's gotten quite a bit of interest although at least half of it are badly concealed propositions for sex. Sorting through the candidates is rough: for every guy that Jess considers a viable option, there are five more that are definite 'no's. To top it off, Cece vetoes a few of her 'yes's after careful read-throughs of their profiles, and Jess takes her advice. Of the two of them, Cece is more astute and has had more experience with men.

They've been at it for fifteen minutes when Schmidt takes his first bathroom break. Despite Jess' strict no stop-offs rule, he sticks his head into the living room on his way. He flashes Cece a blinding smile and Jess realizes for the first time that it is one hundred percent possible for a real life, fully grown adult male to be twitterpated.

"Cece, hi. I didn't realize you were here," he says in his smooth voice. Jess is pointing in the direction of the bathroom and giving him her laser eyes, but he's ignoring her. If possible, his manic grin gets slightly wider.

"That's a blatant lie," she says to Cece.

"Oh trust me, I know," Cece assures her. "Hello, Schmidt."

"You're looking lovely today. Is that a new dress? It's beautiful. You're beautiful." Schmidt seems to have lost control of his mouth.

"Don't you have to go to the bathroom, Schmidt?" Jess asks through gritted teeth.

"Sure, absolutely. I just wanted to tell Cece how beautiful she looks. Like a sun goddess."

"Get _out,_ Schmidt!"

He leaves, and a few minutes later they hear the toilet flush and see him cast them a longing look as he returns to his bedroom.

"Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it. In a way his persistence is kind of sweet," Cece replies. "I mean, it's not going to happen but it's kind of nice."

After forty-five more minutes of bad romantic candidates for Jess and three more 'bathroom breaks' from Schmidt however, it's clear that Cece is finding his persistence a little less sweet. The heart eyes he keeps flashing at her friend tip Jess' frustration over the boiling point, and she stands abruptly.

"Let's get out of here before I drown Schmidt in his hair product," she suggests. "We can go to the bar and get some margaritas, and then maybe this whole online dating thing will start to seem fun."

Cece shoots her an assessing glance. "Are you sure margaritas are the only reason you want to go to the bar, Jess?"

 _Busted._ She tries to play it off and gives a very unconvincing little laugh as she waves her arm around in an excessively dismissive manner. "What? Of course. What? You think I wanna see Nick? I mean, he's probably not even working and _what?_ Besides, you know the margaritas are cheap there."

"They're also terrible." Cece is trying to hide her smile. "We could go to a real Mexican restaurant instead and get good margaritas."

"But we can sit in our regular booth at the bar, and there's wifi."

Cece allows herself to be persuaded, grinning broadly her friend as she bounces around gathering her computer, purse and keys. Jess is so transparent sometimes, but in a lot of ways that's the thing that Cece loves best about her. And if anyone hurts her, well…Cece isn't nearly so forgiving as Jess.

One cab ride later and they arrive at the bar. Cece volunteers to grab their booth while Jess heads to the bar, unable to keep the hopeful look off of her face. The bartender is a female, however, and she orders the margaritas with a sinking heart. Cece gives her arm a sympathetic squeeze as she returns with their drinks.

"I know it's silly. I know he's dating someone else. He just seemed…really nice."

"Well…let's have a couple of drinks and see if we can find a guy on here that helps you forget about him," Cece says with a wave toward the laptop. "We finished with Match, let's try the other site."

They're still arguing the merits of would-be spelunking enthusiast and grocery store assistant manager Mark Gregson when the female bartender leaves. Heart pounding, Jess watches as Nick takes over for her. He's here, and she really wants to go over and say hi but suddenly it's as though her ass has been glued to her seat. She can't seem to get her hips and legs to cooperate with her.

Cece looks up from the computer and follows Jess' gaze to the bar. She takes in Nick, his green Henley, scruffy face and messy-enough-to-be-stylish hair, and then her eyes return to her friend.

"Is that him?"

"Yes." Jess can't seem to look away. She has the same expression as a deer that's about to be hit by a truck. It's the same look that Schmidt had the first time he'd seen Cece.

"Oh boy," she breathes. "Jess, honey, stop staring."

Finally, Jess looks over to her. "Sorry. Sorry, I just…didn't expect to see him today."

Cece considers her friend for a few moments, then reaches over and grabs her hand. "Let's go get refills," she says. "Besides, I have a feeling you won't be able to focus until we've said hi."

"Yeah, yeah…okay. Refills." Jess finally unglues herself from the booth and gets to her feet. She pushes her hair back behind her ears, then shakes it loose again. Her fingers tug at her dress, straightening it out. Next she adjusts her glasses. All of these things are nervous tics that Cece learned to recognize long ago. She nudges Jess toward the bar and gives her an encouraging smile. It's not a good idea to let Jess start pining after the unavailable bartender _too_ much, but they're here and a quick hello can't hurt. At least, she hopes not.

Jess gives a little wave as she nears the bar. Nick's smile lights up his face as he spots her, and suddenly it occurs to Cece that this innocent hello might cause more trouble than she realized. Dammit, she should have insisted on the Mexican restaurant when she'd had the chance. Now she's going to have to observe carefully while keeping one eye on Jess' laptop.

"Jess with the weird friend," he says. "Good to see you."

"I don't think he'll show up this time, although stranger things have happened." Jess' smile is so wide it is threatening to crack her face in half. "Hi, Nick. This is my best friend Cece."

Nick reaches over and shakes her hand. "Nice to meet you. So, what are you two ladies drinking?"

Jess orders their margaritas and Nick gets to work. There's more random small talk and Cece almost tunes them out in favor of making sure that the old guy in the corner doesn't steal Jess' laptop, but then she hears something that catches her attention.

"The CIA is _definitely_ hiding aliens, Jess. If there's one thing I know for sure, it's that there are little green men and our government is covering it up."

"But w _hy_ would they cover it up, Nick? That doesn't make any sense! And why haven't more people noticed?"

"Because the FBI kills anyone that finds out. I mean, the normal people that find out. They leave the crazies so that no one else believes them and looks into it."

Jess and Cece exchange glances—there's no way he's being serious, is there?

"So the CIA is conducting experiments on aliens…" Cece says, trailing off.

"And the FBI is just running around executing American citizens?" Jess finishes. It's definitely one of the craziest theories she's ever heard. "There's no way our government is efficient enough to pull that off."

"Well, they're not. There are plenty of us that know the truth. There's even an online group that forwards news about what type of experiments the CIA have been running."

"Where do they do these experiments? Area 51?" Jess asks, laughing.

"No way, Jess! That's just what they want you to think. It's a decoy." He crosses his arms. "Everyone knows that."

"Oh yeah, everyone," Cece agrees. She's mocking him, just a little, but Nick gestures to her as if she's just proven his point. Maybe Cece shouldn't have worried after all. Maybe all this random conspiracy stuff will turn Jess off.

"Next you'll tell me that you think dinosaurs are fake," Jess jokes, and then her eyes get huge as Nick launches into an explanation of how that's yet another cover-up, an international one this time, and how the science doesn't make sense…and it's going to be a long night. Cece decides she better finish her margarita fast so she can order another one.

* * *

By the time they take a cab back home, they've both had three margaritas. Jess is no longer interested in the guys online. Instead, she can't stop talking about Nick's wild conspiracy theories. She's tipsy and animated and more than once Cece has to dodge her flying hands.

"I mean, none of his stories have any scientific evidence. How in the world could a _nyone_ believe those crazy theories?" she says, nearly knocking her own glasses off of her face.

"So…I mean, that's not attractive, right? So you can forget him now and move on to someone who's single?" Cece asks, crossing her fingers. Nick had been funny and weird and he wasn't bad on the eyes, but forbidden love was the last thing Jess needed. Her obsessive personality would turn that into a disaster.

"Yeah, absolutely. There's no way I could fall for a guy that thinks that aliens visit and dinosaurs are fake. No way." Jess shakes her head. "No way."

"So we're doomed." Cece blew out a long sigh. "You've totally already fallen for him."

"No! No way!" The head shaking increases. "Nope, there are no feelings there. None. Nada. Zero."

Cece very, very sincerely doubts that. What she _is_ prepared to believe is the fact that Jess would never want to break a couple up and she'd never want to be involved in cheating, so she was probably trying desperately to fight her attraction for him. No good would come from it, no good at all.

"Should have gone to a Mexican restaurant," Cece groans, and she wraps her arm around her friend. "Well, we'll just have to figure out a way to distract you."

The only problem with this plan is that Cece has no idea how she's going to do it. And that means one thing: it's time to ask (and she can't believe she's even thinking it) _Schmidt_ for help.


End file.
